


The Kandi Mushroom

by CURUS



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, First Time, Frottage, Genderfluid!Marco, Literally just an excuse to write some sweet JeanMarco smut, M/M, Marco makes rave kandi in his free time, minor panty kink, punk!jean, thigh highs and panties, two adorable homos finally doing it ugh slay me, yeh some first time JeanMarco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:25:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3256580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CURUS/pseuds/CURUS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whether in a skirt or pants, Marco's beautiful to Jean. Scar or no scars, he's the most stunning person Jean's ever had the fortune to know let alone hold and kiss. Which is why when it comes to their first time, he doesn't hesitate to allow Marco to set the pace. But still, it would be nice to show him just how beautiful Jean sees him.</p>
<p>Jean always told himself that waiting for Marco was worth it, and he was entirely right. He would wait all over again if it meant keeping his precious angel happy and comfortable enough so he could continue seeing such a pretty smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kandi Mushroom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [checkersfade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkersfade/gifts).



> Important note: Originally, because I was on and off working on this fic since before Christmas, I was going to keep Marco with male pronouns the entire time unless when referring to him as boyfriend/girlfriend and when someone spoke about him (I'm a genderfluid and never have an issue on what people use on me) but I was worried I'd offend someone or be accused of purposely misgendering so I went through and changed any male pronouns to female when Marco was a female. If there are any mistakes/misgenderings when Marco is a girl please know it's because I most likely missed it while going back.  
> The title of this fic is completely random too because I had no idea what else to use. Praise the kandi mushroom!
> 
> All spelling/grammar/unfinished sentences are all due to my sporadic work on this and my lack of Microsoft Office so please excuse me, and I have no BETA writer for this one. Also, this is honestly the first time in so many years that I am posting actual smut again. I used to write and post it a lot. Not so much now. Hopefully this is good enough!

When your wardrobe is composed of jet blacks, dark tight skinnies, and faux leather (real leather's too expensive and animal activists would be after anyone who dares wear a dead cow hide on their shoulder) one learns to adjust to stares, commentary, and even mockery. When it's topped off with a bleached and brown undercut that sticks in every direction possible as if a dead rodent had keeled over on someone's head, it's only further likely that people will talk. A tat on his arm and piercings coating almost every space of his ears and a barbel going straight through his tongue, the aspects of his appearance make him a prime target for comments both good and bad. It all slips off like water on wax leaves. What importance does the opinion of others matter? None.

But there is one opinion that matters. A very sweet opinion from an equally sweet human being.

In the mornings, a still half-asleep Jean manages to get out of bed each day, crawl - almost literally - to the bathroom and wake up with a hot shower with a temperature high enough to leave pale flesh a vague shade of red. After quick work in drying off, bleached hair is blow dried and fixed until it stands the way he prefers, out of his face despite the fact that it'll be back in his eyes by noon either from loss of volume or from being soaked in sweat by the approaching summer heat. He doesn't care, though, and continues to make the attempt at seeming fixed up for the morning, which includes shaving off the scruff that has grown out over night.

With smokey black skinnies clinging to his legs - the knees of which are torn wide open from clumsy drops off a skateboard over time - Jean moves out of the bathroom and toward the closet, doors swinging open as he starts glimpsing around for a decent shirt, eventually settling on the loose black Ramones tank that hung low around the neck and arms (thus exposing the blue and white crossed wings tattooed just above his left bicep), the bottom edge of it filled with occasional holes, and over it came the faded out jean vest, raggedy ripped fringes around every edge, the buttons a dulled faux bronze and engraved with skulls. The back was patched over with a large black fabric with a sloppily painted white anarchy symbol. The outfit seemed to meet whatever expectation had been planted in the blonde's head and he began picking up the rest of his usual additions: The leather wristband that was peeling around the ends, a silver ring with what looked like two wings crossing on the top, a few kandi bracelets he'd picked up either from personal attendance at the local raves with friends or as trades and gifts with Sasha and Ymir (the three of them together probably owned enough kandis to cover both arms from wrist to biceps) and his personal favorite kandi was a necklace beaded with white and various shades of green and a green Super Mario mushroom made of the same beads hanging from it. This was a prized kandi he'd never trade, and it was all due to the fact that--

"Jeanbo! You're running late!"

Lost in admiring the aforementioned kandi, time seemed to have skipped forward and the end result was a stumbling Jean nearly rolling down the staircase with a mixed look of amusement and scolding from his mother who was already holding the backpack at the door. "There's money for breakfast in the front pocket." She informs as the bag is easily swiped from her hold as her son swiftly strolls out the open door, "And tell Marco they're welcome here for dinner after school!"

Oh yes, Marco. The reason Jean seems to cherish the ridiculous Nintendo based kandis he has hanging in his room and his neck almost every day and is someone who seems to look stunningly great in jeans and a pastel cat hoodie.

When Jean met him in Sophomore year, they were seated in the corner of their Beginning Art class in second period and during the boring lectures of the color wheel Jean had glanced over and found freckled hands ducked under their group table and meticulously beading neon beads and white elastic string into some creation. With impressed amber eyes, Jean seemed to end up lost in watching the way those fingers eased and tied each thread and bead into place. Near the end of the class, Jean was able to decipher that this guy was making a kandi wristband about 2 inches wide with the colors spiraling down nearly perfectly with only three or four beads out of place.

"...You like it?"

Jean hadn't expected the person to even notice his staring - though who _didn't_ notice, even the asshole Jaeger would have noticed had he been in the class - and when he was asked of his opinion, he couldn't stop his cheeks from gaining some color to them and his eyes glancing one way to avoid the realization that he had been caught. Reaching up to scratch at still horrendously messy ruby hair (he dyed his hair on a near regular basis, he's surprised it hasn't died from the amount of chemicals in his hair) he tried to seem cool, or as cool as a grungy punk can look with his cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. "Ah...Yeah. It looks pretty good." He took a chance to see the expression the person gave, and oh _God_ were they cute.

The person seemed so elated to be told their work was "pretty good" and it showed in the way they smiled, so wide that the freckles spread all across his face gather under his doe-like brown eyes and Jean swore that those cheeks were making him think of chipmunks with their mouths stuffed with nuts. Those freckles were sprinkled all around his cheeks and nose - was that a star piercing on the right side of it? - and Jean could follow the ridiculous constellations all the way down the sides of his neck and they flowed seamlessly down to his collar bone and money could be bet that those spots probably coated every inch of the perfectly tanned flesh on this guy. And if his face wasn't enough to catch Jean off-guard, his wardrobe was. He was dressed in a gray pullover hoodie with raggedy cat ears on the hood of it and the back of it had a black nose and whiskers printed on it, his jeans probably had seen better days, the ends of them frayed and worn down from the way they hung off him and probably got stomped on a lot through the day by those sneakers, but it was almost adorable the way those jeans were covered up at the hips by a loose red...skirt? The guy was wearing a skirt. _Fucking cute._ Everything seemed to look perfect on the guy, even the off-color coating the entire right side of his face, a thin, nearly invisible line marking where natural bronzed skin met with darker flesh, it just merged naturally in Jean's eyes.

"You know, I can make you one. If you want."

There was something in the way he said it that made Jean turn a little pinker to the tips of his ears, how he just _offered_ to make him a kandi bracelet that probably looked hard to do. Pulling at a piece of dyed hair the former-blonde tried to scowl like he always does, "Don't worry about it. You're already making one." He had enough kandi at home anyway from the raves over the past year.

"No, no! Really! I love making them! Did you know I can even make characters with them?" Those doe-like brown eyes just lit up like lights when he said he could make characters with kandis. Can the guy get any more adorable?

Before Jean could even ask, the bell rang and every began gathering their stuff, a symphony of sounds from everyone as they tried to make for the door as quick as possible. Crap, the teacher probably asked them to do something for homework and Jean was too enraptured in Freckled Jesus over here.

Said freckled saint stood up and grabbed the messenger bag at his feet, with key chains of all kinds, some even made of beads, hanging from every zipper on it, "How about this? You tell me what colors you like and I can have one done by tomorrow. So, what would you like on it?"

A quick chat about which colors Jean wanted on his wristband - white, green, and blue, of all the possible combinations that Jean would pick - became a full blown conversation as the two of them headed out of the building and onto campus, remaining attached at the hip until they got to the library building where Jean said he'd be attending a Cinema Lit. class right down the hall from the library, whereas Marco had to keep walking to the other side of campus for a math class.

"I'll have your bracelet done by tomorrow then." Giving that same smile, the one that made Jean's stomach do circles, the freckled angel was _still_ making his current bracelet, "Oh, and by the way, my name's Marco." From then on, Jean had committed Marco's name to memory. And it turned out, he also had gym class after lunch with him though with Marco in a regular gym class and Jean in Weights. It was a complete blast watching that spotted pretty boy covered in sweat though. Jean's thirst was alive and thriving that day...

And as promised, the next day, Marco had a perfect kandi wristband done and the excitement that ran up Jean's arm when Marco had personally slipped it onto his wrist was ridiculous. In exchange for the wristband, Jean had brought his own at the time small collection of kandis and allowed Marco to take a few. Gone were the neon bracelets, one of which had **"GAAAY"** in cube letter beads, a "gift" from Ymir the year before. She probably would laugh if she knew Jean was giving it to some cute guy like Marco...

Five months after first meeting Marco over kandi bracelets and after returning from a winter vacation in France, Jean had finally moved their friendship into a relationship and two years later they were still together and perfectly accepting of each other's style.

Jean had learned over time that the adorable red skirt and bright colors every so often were due to the fluid gender of his partner and Jean did everything possible to show he was fine with it. When he saw Marco with the pastels and fitting jeans and skirts, he made it clear he was viewing his angel as a girl, and when the baggy jeans and t-shirts were worn then he would view Marco as a guy. It wasn't difficult, after Jean had picked up on it. And Marco seemed completely smitten with Jean's raggedy clothes and never ending wardrobe of leathers. The difficulty was their parents. Mostly Marco's.

Jean's parents enjoyed Marco the moment Jean took the dive and brought him home as his boyfriend (or girlfriend that day) and despite the confused expressions they had when Jean was forced to explain why he'd referred to the freckled teenager as a girl, they easily accepted and Jean's mother loved Marco and his "adorable" looks. She even became defensive of him when Marco had explained that to his own parents, he was entirely male and therefore had to carry two sets of clothes in the morning: The clothes he wore at home to deceive them, and the clothes he'd wear on the days he wasn't feeling as the "right" gender. The Kirschstein's were quick to welcome Marco as he was and it was possibly the best thing any two people could do for him.

Marco was special to them, and he was really special to Jean. From the chipmunk smile that creates clusters of spots under his eyes right down to the sheepish way he would hide the right side of his face from view by tugging his hood to one side to cover up the scar (A childhood accident in Marco's hometown where a house fire left him scarred on his right side.) until Jean manages to force his way into nuzzling his angel's cheek. Yeah, Marco was special.

And that's probably why Jean left their relationship as it was: Innocent. Since it began, Jean's allowed Marco to decide when their heated sessions would stop, and it often halted when the Jean's hands would start wandering under clothes and those freckled cheeks would turn red before kiss-swollen lips would murmur a quick "wait" and everything would return to mindless making out. And that was okay with Jean.

There's a vague sense of a breeze in the air, just cool enough to make one shiver at the first contact of the wind. Trost was always cool year-round, even their summers weren't as aggressive as other places (according to Marco, Jinae was quite the summer Hell with humid airs and blistering sun. Jean made a note that if he were to ever follow his partner to his hometown he would most definitely carry a lot of sunscreen.) The only real proof that the end of the school year was arriving was the blatant reminders of end-of-the-year events and study sessions out the wazoo. Yeah, Jean told himself that maybe now would be a good time to spend less time swapping spit with Marco and more time burying his nose into a few textbooks.

"You look tired. You wake up yet?"

A playful tone rides inside the remark and it's enough to draw a real smile through Jean's clearly drowsy expression. At the corner just a short distance from school, Marco always waits for Jean, messenger bag hanging by his waist and sometimes weighed down by whatever extra clothes he has decided to carry around. Judging by the fact that Marco's bangs were currently being pinned down by hairpins - one of which had the most adorable blue rabbit head pasted on the end - Jean took the guess that in Marco's bag was a change of clothes and he instantly pried the bag off his _girlfriend's_ shoulder and hauled it onto his own. It was funny, Marco always seemed to stick hairpins and whatever other pretty things _she_ used in her hair onto the right side. In fact, everything Marco wore that was decorative always went onto her right side. The _scarred_ side.

"Hey, you're wearing my necklace!"

Drawn out of another mental monologue, Jean glances down to the mushroom hanging around his neck, "Yeah. You know your necklaces are always my favorite." He can't stop a crooked grin from showing and he laughs as he sees those adorably freckles cheeks turn just a little pink from his comment, "You ever think of selling them?"

Digging through the messenger bag on Jean's shoulder, Marco manages to pull out the pastel purple hoodie, removing a noticeable amount of bulk from the messenger bag as she pulls it over her head to keep warm until they reach school, "And make it so wannabe ravers can get them for just five bucks without having to endure the humid and musky smelling drug pits we all go to?" Despite the slightly sharp choice of words, Marco's smile eases any insults she has toward people, like the saint she is, "Besides, they're special. I don't just make them to make them. They're always gifts for people. I mean, I _could_ sell them at the parties or even just throw them out to whoever catches it, but they won't be as special as the ones I give to you and the others." The hood of her sweater comes up and to no surprise, Jean finds that there are _cat ears_ on top.

The first thing Jean does when they arrive at school is to take Marco to the bathrooms, already kicking the doorstop to allow the door to swing closed and catching it with his arm before it shuts entirely, "I'll watch the door, you just get dressed." Like routine, he hands Marco the messenger bag and lets her into the bathroom before letting the door shut and assuming the position of badass boyfriend and part-time bathroom bouncer until the freckled angel comes back. People drift by though, already used to seeing the slightly menacing blonde guard the bathrooms. The only people who approach are friends. Like Sasha.

"Marco in there?" The brunette girl already has a bag of chips in her hands and is practically breezing through them as she stands by Jean. Her hair is messily tied up, proof that she overslept this morning.

Glancing over his shoulder to the door Jean only nods and motions for Sasha to turn around, which she does instantly, "Yeah, she's getting dressed right now." he verbally answered the question as he begins to untie the messy ponytail on Sasha's head and combing his fingers through her hair until it's bunched together neatly, and only then does he finally tie it back up, tugging two clumps apart gently to ensure it's nice and tight, "Better?" Her nod was accompanied by a food-stuffed mumble of approval.

As Sasha steps away, the bathroom opens up and Jean is quick to wrap his girlfriend into a tight hug, commenting that he always loves how pretty his angel looks. "Here, I'll take your extra clothes to my locker, you should get to class with Sasha and I'll meet you in second period." He doesn't even wait for an answer before he's scooping up Marco's shirt and jeans in his arms and putting kiss after kiss on Marco's cheeks, "Stay beautiful." he playfully says, enjoying his girlfriend's laughter a while longer before they finally kissed and parted ways.

 

* * *

 

Class breezed by and soon Jean is finally seeing Marco in second period as promised. Their teacher, however, had decided that their table arrangements were sub-par and thus everyone spent the first ten minutes of class moving desks until their teacher was satisfied, and the arrangement left Marco on one side of the room and Jean on the other. How unfair. And the worst part: Something about the way Marco's jeans looked that day was just...Greatly pleasant. Jean had an earful from the teacher when he dazed off into seemingly nowhere as he froze to admire his pretty girlfriend.

The day was turning out a little bad. Stifle your thirst, Jean. Stifle your thirst.

Third period goes by next and lunch came right after and Jean was happily reunited with Marco, though food had been the last thing on Jean's mind. He chose to kidnap Marco by swooping by and picking her up before she could even sit at the group spot by the large planters the school had. The others made joking and playful catcalls, and the remarks of how the prince finally found his princess and to "use protection" (Thanks, Ymir.) were making Marco turn bright red as she tried to hide her embarrassment against Jean's chest.

The rescuing of the princess ended up with the blushing damsel pinned into the corner of one of the buildings, tucked away in the shadow of the afternoon and being mauled by a slightly needy Jean.

" _Ah_ \- Jean, you're going to get us caught..." There's no resistance in Marco's words though, and she's willingly tilting her head to expose the crook of her neck, a spot Jean seems to love gnawing at whenever he can, and the sensation of having pearly whites biting down on her skin sends Marco into a muffled frenzy as she throws a hand over her mouth to silence her whimper, her back beautifully arching away from the brick wall, Jean's hands pressing against the small of Marco's back to keep their stomachs held together. The position makes it easy for Jean to feel every shaky breath his girlfriend makes, the sensation driving him a little mad.

Pretty slender fingers grip the jean vest as Marco presses her mouth against Jean's clothed shoulder, the doe-like eyes fluttering closed as she lets Jean continue his assault on Marco's neck, the blonde's hands holding and rubbing at the small of the freckled one's back, even going so far as slipping those devilish hands under the sweater and tank top Marco has on and grazing fingernails along that delicious curve where beautiful dark spots are gathered in a strange pool of freckles. The sharp inhale from Marco lets Jean know that his actions are much enjoyed and he does it again at the same time he bites down on the older girl's neck.

"Nng-! Jean... _Fuck_..." Marco is practically keening and trembling on Jean's arms as her words are muffled by Jean's vest, teeth biting down on the material as she almost pants open-mouthed against it. Her legs are practically shaking as she lets herself enjoy the pleasant treatment from her boyfriend, "We should stop..." she insists, though, pulling away to yank Jean into a messy kiss, thus forcing the other's hands away from her waist, "I don't wanna have you walking to class with your dick pressing against your jeans." Although her words were playful, they were shaky and breathless, and seeing the normally innocent looking brunette so flustered and dazed makes Jean only want to pin her back to the wall. But Marco is right. Can't coax the shy teenager into sex, do the deed, clean up, and look presentable for class before lunch is over. Besides, their first time is meant to be special, right? Like, cheesy romance chick-flick special. Not, "bend over the wall and bite your fist" special. Nope.

Forcing down all urges, the two of them settle for simply drifting into soft kisses and sickeningly sweet words and nuzzles until lunch was done, leaving them both hungry, in more ways than one.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day crept on steadily, though the hour of gym seemed to inch by at a snail's pace, with Jean's class being forced to run laps alongside Marco's class, and the sight of his pretty girlfriend in shorts and a tank was truly a delicious sight. Whether boy or girl, Marco did have quite the ego when it came to her body, or at least, the left side of it.

The moment the last class ended, Jean was making his way straight to the restrooms, knowing that Marco would be there waiting. And as expected, there stood the pretty angel, already picking hairpins out of her hair and attempting to fix the bangs into their usual parting. Before she can really undo any more of them, though, Jean catches his girlfriend's hands and pries the pins out of her fingers and carefully placing them back in Marco's hair, "You're coming home with me today. Mom's inviting you over." The smile he's given is probably the best thing he's seen all day.

Afternoons with the Kirschstein's were always Marco's favorite, since she could be herself for just a little longer and it let her be with Jean more too. She was always welcomed the same way: With the scent of nearly finished dinner and a comforting hug from the doting mother, before the Mrs. goes right to her son and begins putting all attention on him despite the clear scowl from the blonde that practically screams _"Mother, you are embarrassing me in front of my girl/boy!"_

A comfortable dinner occurs between them, just a half hour after Jean's father arrives home, and once done, both teenagers request to be excused and end up holed up in Jean's bedroom, trying to milk whatever time they have left before Marco's forced to be driven home.

"Mm, I always hate when you have to leave." The mumbles words are muffled against Marco's left cheek (of course Marco would lay on Jean's right side to avoid letting him nuzzle the scarred skin) "I just wanna keep you wrapped up in my arms, angel." His hands are lazily rubbing Marco's side, thumb drawing slow circles over the freckled girl's ribs, "Think we can squeeze a bit of a make-out session before I take you home?" His tongue pokes out as he grins, earning him a flustered laugh from his girlfriend, "Come on. You know you love making out with me."

Saying Marco loved make-outs with Jean was an understatement. They always drove the poor soul mad, especially when Jean kept Marco over him. Something about looking down and seeing Jean give her that approving smile always sending shivers down Marco's back.

In minutes, fingers are laced together against the white sheets and Marco is straddling Jean, kisses slow and passionate as they enjoy their time alone. Jean's teeth clamp down on Marco's bottom lip, adding to their red hue as the blonde reaches under layers of clothes and scratches at the same place as earlier today.

"Hng- W-wait..." Like usual, Marco is quick to put it all to a stop, but she sits up slowly, something different compared to what she usually does. Her fingers spread out against her boyfriend's chest, palm feeling the quick heart rate as she stares at Jean breathlessly, "...I...I wanna do something for you." The way the brunette's cheeks flush almost makes Jean's stomach knot in an _amazing_ way but he doesn't ask what Marco means. Instead a silence rolls over as Marco toys with the edges of the white tank top she sported this morning, playing with it before starting to pull it up, eyes locked directly on Jean's wide amber ones.

The breath the blonde takes in is quiet and shaky as he tries to find his voice, "Hey...You sure?" He wants to ensure that his partner is fine with this. He always knew why Marco was so against sex and undressing: Marco was self-conscious of the scars and burns of her right side. She always made sure Jean could only enjoy the left.

Arms frozen in mid-removal of the shirt, Marco nods, clearly feeling shy, "Yeah... I- I want to give you something special." And just like that, she grips the bottom of the white fabric and pulls her shirt over her head, and Jean tries so hard to not drool, admiring the way Marco's stomach is covered by stunning abs, a four pack curtsy of careful workouts in her free time, and the way her stomach dips as she stretches to tug the shirt off. As predicted, there are freckles all over Marco, dotting every possible inch of unscarred flesh and for a moment, Jean swore he was finding constellations in those dots. The scar that Marco tries so hard to hide despite it's impossible size is nowhere near as ugly as its owner believes, resembling more of a simple discoloration of skin rather than a horrid burn. It ran straight down the brunette's chest and stomach, jagged and slightly off to the right, nearly parting her body in half, and it runs and dips off to the right just above sharp hipbones. Jean strongly believes that if Marco were to turn around, the same pattern would repeat itself across the other's broad back, a nearly exact mirror of the front. But something about the scar just...seemed to fit. It didn't standout, it didn't look like something that didn't belong. It simply melded in along with every other "imperfection" that Marco seems to find. It leaves Jean in a daze, the sight of what he sees as perfection in his angel.

The staring does not go unnoticed and in an instant Marco is crossing her arms, nearly hugging herself in a lame attempt at hiding whatever it is that Jean found on her, "......Does it look that bad...?" Dark eyes glance downward, avoiding the blonde's stare as she gently runs his own fingertips over the edge of her scar, "...I'm sorry." A pathetic murmur of an apology provokes something, though, and Marco nearly shouts as she's pulled down and into familiar warm and strong arms.

"It's not bad. Nothing about you is bad. You're so beautiful, baby." With her head against Jean's neck, Marco has the words being poured right into her ear and it makes her chest tighten at being told such sweet things. Jean's hand rubs slow circles over the other's back, and he looks down and finds that, yes, the scar does mimic the front and there are freckles dripping down the expanse of smooth skin, and Jean can see that lovely pool of spots at the curve of Marco's back. Like earlier, Jean flattens his hand against that space, starting with slow circles which makes his girlfriend hum in approval against his neck. Glancing at the clock beside the bed, there is still about five minutes before either of them have to get up.

_'That's plenty of time.'_

Jean can already feel Marco putting sweet kisses against the crook of his neck, so he can always just blame his actions on that. Staring back down to the cluster of freckles, the blonde bites his lip before making a slow process of grazing his fingernails against the small of his partner's back. There's a sharp inhale beside his ear which is then shakily let out as Marco's hand tightens around the front of Jean's black tank, maybe even trembling a little. It's a repeated process, scratching at that sweet spot and making the most amazing sounds emit from Marco.

Jean's actions falter when Marco writhes against him, and with the brunette still straddling at his hips, there's a faint friction between them that makes them both freeze, and for a second they both swear they can feel each other's heart rate pick up. There's only a second or two of silence before Marco decides to react first. Shifting somewhat on her arms, enough to be able to look down at Jean's blushing red face, she stares down at him with a thoughtful look in her eyes before she chews at her lip in hesitation and repeats the earlier action, her lip slowly sliding out from between her own teeth as she allows herself to enjoy the warm friction going between them. Sure, they never had sex, but _dry humping_? The two of them were _champions_ at it. It was possibly the only real intimate actions they've done at all and usually ended with Jean creaming his boxers before Marco even got close to coming.

Beneath Marco, Jean watches the way his girlfriend's eyes flutter closed and how her teeth worry at her lip. Jean was really enjoying the way a red color was blooming across freckled cheeks. Putting his hands on Marco's hips, he rubs his thumbs over the dip of her hipbones before moving his hands further back into her back pockets under her skirt and digging his fingers into the brunette's ass, forcing the next roll of her hips to be achingly slow but twice as firm, and chills instantly run over them both despite the sudden increase in room temperature. Despite his pleasure, Jean makes sure he sees the way his angel's eyes darken with lust and the way lips part in a silent moan of pleasure. It's such a perfect sight that he can't help but do it again, gripping and dragging Marco against him again, but as soon as he pauses to give his partner a moment, he's surprised when the brunette simply continues a steady pace between them, slow and firm grinding between their hips that makes them both exhale shakily.

Both continue to watch each other's expressions, with Marco enjoying the look of concentration on the blonde's face, brows occasionally drawing together in focus as he tries to keep any sounds silent, and Jean memorizing the way Marco's teeth continue to gnaw at her lip and the way her expression practically _cries out_ for more, cheeks rose red and quiet pants escaping whenever Marco decides to stop chewing at her lip.

Jean's heart nearly stops when his partner shifts once more and instead of rutting their clothed dicks together, they end up with the tent in Jean's jeans pressing directly against Marco's ass, the sensation making the freckled brunette squeak in the most adorable way possible and everything stops as Marco quickly covers her mouth with shaking hands, brown doe eyes staring in shock at Jean's dumbfound expression. It's a silence that provokes a quiet chuckle from the blonde as he soothingly rubs his palms up tense thighs and under the other's skirt, a comforting gesture as he stares at his blushing girlfriend. He makes a gentle shushing sound as he tries to pry the shy youth's hands from over her mouth.

"Relax, babe." With his voice close to a sweet whisper, Jean attempts to bring the mood down to a less heated one, continuing to rub slow circles on his girlfriend's thigh with one hand and the other gently easing shaky tan hands from the sheepish smile, "Guess we got a little carried away, hm?" They both give quiet laughs in wordless agreement and Marco leans down to steal kisses from her boyfriend. A quiet hum comes from Jean before he gently nudges the brunette's shoulder, "Come on, get up. I have to get you home, remember?" The sensation of disappointment fills the air but they both willingly get off the bed, Jean handing over Marco's extra clothing he had stashed in her bag and allowing her to change in the bedroom while Jean headed downstairs to wait, with his shirt pulled down over his still present erection. Can't exactly beat one out with both parents home.

The Kirschsteins bid farewell to Marco, the Mrs. already inviting her back for another day if she wishes, and she hands Jean his keys which hang on the wall by the front door on an old Led Zeppelin lanyard that his father had given him when they found it in the attic. Like a gentleman, Jean lets his girlfriend hold onto his arm as they walk to his car, and he makes a joking show of opening the door for her, even adding "m'lady" as he bows, sending Marco into a fit of giggles before she composes herself and tries to jokingly curtsy for her boyfriend before getting into the car. It's still cool at night, something completely normal for Trost even this close to summer, and the warmth in the car is greatly appreciated as Jean starts the engine and begins pulling out to head down the street to the Bodt household.

There's a comfortable silence as they drive, with Marco's head rested against the window the entire way. She still had hairpins in her hair but when they stop in front of the house, Jean is quick to remind her about them and even helps her pick the decorative pins out and combing the bangs back into place, swiping a quick kiss before he pulls away entirely.

"So... Had fun?" The simple question from Jean had that hidden meaning, if the cocky grin he had wasn't enough to prove it. It made Marco's cheeks go bright red and she hides her face in her palms, whining behind them. Laughing, the blonde reaches over and runs a hand through soft dark hair, "Sorry, babe. But really, about earlier... I wasn't...forcing myself on you, right?" There was a little hidden fear in Jean that he was simply forcing his partner into expressing forms of affection against the brunette's will.

Peeking from between fingers, the freckled one lowers her hands from over her face and lets a small smile show, though her eyes kept looking at the floor, "Of course not. If I do something with you, it's because I really want to." Despite the lack of eye contact, Marco wasn't the type to lie, especially to Jean. It's enough to reassure Jean that he wasn't being forceful between them, but still, there was a line between them and he never wants to yank Marco over it just because his blood dropped down south. Jean cares about Marco too much to break those boundaries.

Pale painter's fingers cross together with tanned ones and Jean leans over to ask for one more kiss before Marco has to leave. They're both thankful for how dark the car windows are, hiding any of their actions from view of the front door of the Bodt home. Marco struggled with enough and Jean wants to avoid any more problems for his partner at least until after graduation.

Before Marco leaves, Jean leans over toward the passenger side, lowering the window as Marco turned to walk away, "Hey, so my parents are going to be out this weekend, and they were wondering if you would stay over with me to make sure I don't burn the house down or something." A sheepish grin comes over the blonde's face as he's given an amused smirk from Marco, "Come on, humor them. It'd be nice to have a weekend to just lounge around with you without having your parents breathing down your neck." A valid point, and eventually the brunette's shoulder sag with a playful sigh as she agrees, making Jean grin like an excited kid.

"I'll come over after school when I get my stuff ready." And with that the freckled brunette turns away and heads up to the door, only stopping to wave to her boyfriend before disappearing inside, and leaving Jean with the stupidest smile on his face as he drove right back home.

Between that evening and Friday afternoon, Jean was full of childish excitement. The thought of having Marco all to himself for a weekend was wonderful. He liked being able to simply enjoy Marco's company without worrying about interruptions or his parents hogging the TV or just the sensation of being stared at. It would be a free weekend for them both to just be together.

At 4 pm, Jean was barely helping his parents carry their bags out to the cab waiting outside when he heard the distant sound of roller-blades coming down the sidewalk. After forcing down another suitcase into the cab's tight packed trunk, the blonde lifts his head and looks up to the source of the sound, slowly grinning when his hunch was correct.

Gliding toward Jean, Marco lazily approached him before coming to a halt, catching himself on the metal railing of the front steps to the Kirschstein home and shifting the messenger bag hanging off his shoulder, "'sup?" Casually greeting the blonde, he glances to the side at the wide open front door, "Parents still here?"

Forcing down the cab's trunk, all Jean does is give a huff of relief when it stays down before turning to the smiling brunette, "Naw, I'm just stuffing these suitcases in here for safe keeping." His sarcasm, which is always present it seems, earns him some laughter from Marco and he walks over and ruffles at neatly parted hair, "They'll be gone in a minute and then I'll call in for some pizza and we can take over the living room." Resisting the urge to kiss his boyfriend in front of the cab driver, Jean glances down to the other's skates, stepping back to see them, "New wheels?" Sure enough, these skates aren't at all the scuffed and old ones Marco was using last week. The wheels weren't an obnoxious neon green, either. Now they were an obnoxious neon pink. Damn Marco and all his neons.

Understanding that Jean noticed, Marco only looks down with a proud smile, "Yup. Remember how I took that summer job back home in Jinae when I left to stay with relatives for the break?"

"Ugh, don't remind me. I had to live nearly three months without you." The entire summer without Marco was the most dull and agonizingly slow summer to Jean in history, and chatting on a webcam wasn't even possible since the ever so brilliant Marco had left his at home, and the most they were able to do was instant messaging, phone calls, and texting, and that was all during the hours where Marco wasn't working at his aunt's flower shop or out with the family.

Chuckling at the way Jean seemed to scowl at the reminder, the freckled brunette simply turned the attention back to the main topic, "Yeah, well, I saved up all of that and was looking for something to spend the last few bills on and I found these last week while I was at the mall with my sister. They're cool, aren't they?" They certainly looked like they cost a lot, "And I even bought extra wheels so when these give out I already have new ones ready." Always planning ahead. Bless him.

A crack sounded from the front door and the two turned instantly to see Jean's parents finally coming out, his father dragging one more suitcase in his arms. The crack had simply been the luggage hitting against the frame of the door. And of course, the Mrs. had nothing in her arms, instead moving to embrace not her son, but Marco, "Hello, dear! Thank you for staying with Jean for the weekend, the poor boy wouldn't be able to survive it without you." Her words made Jean scowl even more and Marco chew his lip to hold back snickering, but she ignored it all and only glanced down, "Lovely skates, too." She added before putting a kiss to her metaphorically adopted child (she already viewed Marco as her own and babied him to no end. Of course, no resistance is given from the receiving end.) and then moving over to kiss her still grouchy son, "Remember: no parties, no rough housing, and no drinking." Her tone is firm and parental, a finger prodding at Jean's chest with each regulation, "I can trust Marco to take good care of you, so don't give him a hard time." To Jean, this was starting to sound more like she was _paying_ his boyfriend to watch over him all weekend.

With another hug from Jean's mother and a polite goodbye from his father, both adults get into the back of the cab, the single suitcase at Mr. Kirschstein's feet to leave leg room for his wife, and as soon as the cab is gone, both teenagers head inside.

"Don't get tracks on the floor, mom'll kick you down the stairs if you do." The first and possibly last serious thing coming from Jean's mouth is those words as he and Marco walk through the front door, the skates still on Marco as he gets inside, "Just take them off already." He only glares when his boyfriend literally _drifts_ past him with the skates _still on_ , "God dammit, Marco!" That's about all the resistance met from Jean, though, and when he's sure that Marco's skates aren't leaving any marks on the wood floor, he follows him out of the foyer and into the living room, where Marco is _finally_ taking off the damn roller blades, "Should I call for pizza now?"

"Go ahead. It's nearly dinner time anyway and they'll take about thirty minutes to get here." Setting the skates aside beside the couch and out of Jean's walking zone, Marco removes his bag from his shoulder and starts riffling through it for a moment before pulling out some shorts and standing up, "I'm going to borrow your bathroom and change because these pants are actually from Freshman year and it's digging into my stomach." A snort from the kitchen makes him pause and backtrack enough to peek to his boyfriend, "What??"

"You've _lost weight_ since ninth grade, why are your pants tighter instead of looser?" He held a valid point. He may have met Marco Sophomore year but after knowing each other a little more after first meeting, he learned that he _did_ have a couple classes with Marco during second semester, and compared to how he was now, Marco was less pudgy and more solid than his fifteen year old self.

"I lost weight but my mom had a little accident with the laundry recently and these jeans ended up getting a little too small. Besides, back then I didn't have hips this wide." Content his in response, Marco leaves and is already undoing the front of his Jeans. He can hear Jean calling to him though, obviously peering around the corner to the bathroom.

"You say that like it's a bad thing. I certainly like it." There's a feeling of satisfaction in Jean when his boyfriend throws him a flustered glare before shutting the bathroom door.

Comments like that are idly tossed the rest of the night, between the pizza and video games where Jean turns half of Marco's words into innuendos, and when they lay in bed it only gets worse when Jean turns into a sap and puts his attention on the dots scattered all over his boyfriend, counting and kissing each one until he ends up lulling his freckled partner into sleep, and in the morning it continues, picking up on the last number he can remember and persisting even when they're in the pool in the backyard, the sun making the freckles standout even more and leaving them exposed for Jean to mark with his mouth. Since their moment earlier in the week, Marco finally let himself swim comfortably in the pool, always wearing a shirt in the water before. His scar and freckles were clearly visible to his boyfriend as they swam around the pool, completely comfortable in knowing that Marco wasn't going to be hiding any time soon.

At 9:30 pm the next day, both of them are back in Jean's room, freshly showered and tangled with each other as Jean continues the tedious task of kissing the freckles that cover his boyfriend, officially satisfied with the amount he's covered from the shoulders up.

"You've probably already missed some..." The comment from the brunette is quiet, spoken in a soft and airy voice as he lays against the pillows against the headboard and gently running his fingers through two-toned hair as he watches his boyfriend cover as many spots as he can. He'd lost his shirt again some time ago when Jean had insisted it be removed to make counting easier. No real struggle was given, only a minor second of hesitation before it came off.

Pausing to glance up, Jean only kisses a barely visible freckle in the middle of Marco's chest before murmuring a reply, mouth brushing against the skin and his breath warming the space, "I know, but I've already invested an entire day into this..." Lips curl into a smile as fingers gently scratch at the darker brown section of his hair, "Unless you _want_ me to stop?" The fingers in his hair move to grab his shirt and the little tug tells him to come back up and he let's himself be pulled into a kiss, those gentle fingers back in his hair, this time making it into a mess as they easily fall into their usual pattern of deep and sloppy kisses.

Jean's favorite thing about Marco was always the way he simply curved and felt perfect against him, like a matching piece, and he loved tracing every little dip and curve in his partner's body, from the way his palm splays at the small of Marco's back to how he can trace the lines of his muscles even through his shirt. With Marco now comfortable to strip off his upper clothing at least, Jean is free to finally feel the entirety of his angel's figure, able to feel a hard stomach against his flat one and how Marco's breath hitches and shakes whenever Jean bites down on sensitive skin. He likes knowing that he can feel his boyfriend's reactions to every little speck of attention that he gives him.

A hushed cry comes from under the blonde as he gives an experimental rut against the freckled teen. With Marco's legs on either side of Jean's waist, it leaves him wide open for the torture as the devilish Jean continues a slow pace between his boyfriend's legs. "Don't have to be quiet, angel..." Contradicting his words, Jean's tone is quiet and whispered, mostly because he knows it's the exact tone that makes Marco's thoughts turn to slush, "Kinda glad we're alone, though... Get to hear all your pretty sounds." A shaky little whine comes from the brunette who has the pillow under his head in a tight shaky grip, "You sounded really amazing the other night... And you looked even better, all flustered and turned on. Fucking wish I could see that face every day..." A smirk curls at the corners of Jean's lips, watching the way Marco just stares up at him with a clouded stare, "You look so good, babe."

Becoming a little frustrated with Jean's blatant teasing, the normally patient saint tugs at the front of his boyfriend's shirt and drags him down into another kiss, fingers curling around unkempt bleached hair. When Jean began that slow pace, grinding his hips down against Marco's, the brunette didn't struggle or push him away. Instead, he kept his legs tight around his boyfriend's lanky frame, completely allowing him to rut against him and trembling a little more with each passing moment. Chills crawled down Jean's back whenever he heard the shaky exhales Marco gave and felt the way his hips with buck up against his own, meeting every little move Jean made. It felt amazing to them, a barrier having come down at some point in the past week. Neither of them wanted it to stop, they just wanted to fall deeper and deeper into this odd hole of pleasure.

" _Ah-_ Jean, wait..." The sudden voice from Marco has Jean halting where he is, both breathless and taking a moment to collect their thoughts.

"Sorry..." Apologizing, Jean gives soft kisses across his boyfriend's freckled chest, pausing to press one kiss directly on the rift between scarred and smooth flesh. A hand cards through his hair, making him look up to find Marco watching him with a thoughtful stare, "...Babe? You okay?" Brows furrow in confusion when he's pulled up and into the sweetest kiss that night, "...What are--" Before he can finish asking what his boyfriend is planning, he freezes up at the question he's given.

"Can we...finally have sex?"

Jean can feel his chest pounding as he tries to replay the question. He heard it right, it was clear and he wasn't really sure _what to fucking say._ He must have looked pretty awkward, because his staring caused Marco to fidget uncomfortably, arms starting to come up to hide the scars at his side. He noticeably flinches when his arms are caught by Jean's and nervous dark eyes stare up at the blond. Jean keeps quiet but he leans down and kisses the scarred skin at the right of Marco's face, feel the way the freckled brunette tenses under his actions, "...If you're up for it, then we can do whatever you want, angel." Another kiss is put to Marco's cheek before Jean leans away and laces his fingers with the trembling brunette under him.

Slow and warm kisses are traded between the two of them, painter's hands running callous palms down the warm figure of his boyfriend, the tips of his finger lightly grazing over the beginning of the scar, "Marco...You're like a map. A map in the night sky..." Jean's chapped lips move away from Marco's and begin running between freckles, connecting them thoughtlessly and creating meaningless patterns, "My beautiful angel... Covered in these stars. I love it..."

Laying under Jean, Marco watches with anxious breaths as his boyfriend's kisses practically sends tingles each time his lips meet with his skin. The lower Jean goes the warmer they feel until eventually it feels like a flame is literally burning him, "J- Jean..." His breath hitches as burning amber eyes stare up at him with a dangerously mischievous look, and as Jean dips lower, Marco's back arches up an inch or two, feeling the blonde place a firm, open mouthed kiss right over the tent of his jeans, "Ah- Wait, stop, Jean-" A shiver ripples from his legs right up his back every time he feels Jean's hot mouth placing kisses along his clothed dick.

Feeling Marco writhe a bit, the blonde ceased and looks up at Marco with a playful grin, "Sorry. I just liked seeing that look on your face." He admired how the flushed cheeks only made those freckles stand out more, and the way the lust had left chocolate eyes an even deeper color, it all egged him on, the urge to just continue too much to resist.

The brunette had to catch his breath for a moment, chest shakily rising and falling as a hand comes up to push bangs from his face, "It's...okay." he manages to say, "I just, I kind of...brought what we'd need. It's in the front pocket of my bag..." When a grin shows on Jean's face, Marco only blushes an even deeper shade of red and averts his eyes quickly, only glancing back when he hears the quiet chuckle from his boyfriend.

"So I guess you planned this?" Despite wanting to tease Marco senseless, Jean gets up, sliding off the bed but not before stealing one more kiss from Marco, "You get comfortable and I'll be back with everything, alright?" The heat in the room lowers as he takes the time to ease any jitters in his freckled partner, innocent kisses being placed on the back of broad hands before Jean leaves, heading downstairs where Marco's bag was, left on the couch from this morning before they went swimming. Digging in the front pocket as he was told, he finds the still new tube of lube and about three condoms, clearly they were tossed in without even being counted. There's a moment where Jean stays still, taking in the reality that he is indeed going to do this with Marco. Nervous, he nods firmly to himself before heading back up.

As soon as the steps near the bedroom, Marco's voice calls out, "Give me a second." There's silence from Jean as he waits for an okay, and in this time there's some shuffling in the bedroom, "...Okay." A slight tremble in the brunette's voice and Jean's almost concerned as he finally walks in. Oh _shit_ , why should there be concern??

Sitting up on his knees in the middle of the bed is Marco, but all clothes have been stripped, except for a black skirt and long thigh high stockings, the color black making those tan legs look even longer than they already were. The brunette's face is flushed deep red as he glances to Jean, "...Told you...I sort of planned this."

Jean's thoughts were melting away fast and he walked to the bed and didn't hesitate pull his boyfriend into a heated kiss, one that made the freckled male gasp and leave his mouth open for Jean to assault, tongue brushing against every corner of the other's mouth. Dropping the condom and lube on the bed, the blonde puts an arm around Marco's waist, palm spread open at the small of the taller boy's back. As they pull apart, amber eyes dare to look down and a choked inhale shows how the sight of the tent under the skirt effects Jean. Licking at his dry lips, the blonde clears his throat to get his partner's attention, "You were wearing this under your jeans, Freckles?" The sheepish nod confirms Jean's suspicion, and his head is too clouded up with lust for him to really laugh at how much planning Marco put into this. Staring at the black skirt it became too tempting and with a shaky exhale, Jean glances at Marco's flustered face before he slips a hand under the skirt, " _Fuck-_ " The word slips out when fingers brush against what he assumes is lace. Are these... " _Panties_ , babe?"

Hearing the word itself makes the brunette look away in embarrassment, "I just wanted you to enjoy tonight." His words tremble and waver because Jean's palm is still pressed against his trapped cock, "Did this for y- _hah, ah_ -" A quiet, small cry emits as that palm rubs against him and shaking thighs spread open and his hips roll shakily into the hand, " _Mm_... Jean..."

"Feel good, babe? Then lie back and I can make you feel even better." Jean's voice is low and it rumbles into Marco's ear as he nips at the lobe of his ear. The heel of the blonde's palm presses against the black lace and slowly drags up, a tremble running through freckled thighs as a damp spot forms at the front of the panties.

Sheets tangle slightly as Marco shifts and lies back with his chest rising and falling in shaky breaths and legs spread a fraction as he watches Jean strip out of his shirt and toss it to the side. His hands grip the pillow under his head like he did earlier, and Jean crawls onto the bed until he's resting on his stomach between Marco's legs. His hands come to rest on the brunette's thighs, his thumbs rubbing the inside and causing his boyfriend to squirm under his touch, "Warm..." The word is murmured just as Jean places a kiss just under the edge of the skirt, "You trust me, babe?" When a high pitched sound of approval comes from above him Jean traces the tip of his tongue up the inside of Marco's thigh, relishing in the delicious inhale, "Relax. I'll make you feel really good, angel."

Leaning up on his elbows, Marco glances down and watches as his boyfriend sends him a smirk. That smirk should be illegal because of the way it just makes Marco's stomach jump in excitement. He watches as slender hands run up both of his thighs and push the black skirt up. The words "lie down" are murmured beneath the fabric and before he can do as he's told he flinches and nearly chokes on his own moan.

Beneath the skirt Jean drags his tongue up the hard curve in the black panties, tongue spread flat and wide as he licks from base to the soaked tip of Marco's cock, the material of the underwear creating a sensation that rips moans and whimpers from the brunette as dark eyes nearly cross from pleasure and his palms come down hard on the bed, callous fingers curling around the bed covers and holding them in a shaky grip. "So fucking delicious." The taste is bitter yet addicting and it's hard for Jean to resist suckling at the head, the tip of his tongue daring to dig into where he estimates is the slit. A trembling cry comes from Marco and his hips twitch under Jean's mouth before they're held down by Jean's firm hold, leaving him helpless as he continues to suck and press his tongue against the soaked tip of the clothed length. Frantic and breathless please spill from Marco's lips as he continues to squirm and try to buck up into that warm mouth and his hands ball into tight fists around the sheets, practically sobbing Jean's name. The blonde pulls back and lays kisses from the base to the head after torturing Marco. "Doing okay, angel?" he asks, hearing how hard his boyfriend was practically panting, "Want me to stop?"

"No... No, please keep going... Please..."

Despite the needy tone to his boyfriend's words, Jean does everything possible to go slow from here, thumbs easing their way under the thin panties and slowly sliding them down. The skirt is bunched up at Marco's hips, leaving him exposed as the black underwear is brought down. The thigh highs have slipped down a few inches and as the panties come down, those smooth thighs come together just as Jean sits up and slips the underwear past Marco's ankles, "You look beautiful..." He quietly compliments, tossing the underwear and coming back up, palms sliding slowly, creating warmth starting from Marco's ankles and moving upward until they ease shaking thighs apart, the material of the long stockings sending a buzz from the blonde's palms right into Marco's skin. Jean stops his hands at his partner's hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on Marco's hip bones as he eases up to kiss the tough abs of his boyfriend, "So beautiful..."

The only sound in the room comes from the shaky and nervous breaths of the two of them and the sound of the zipper of Jean's pants coming down. Straddling the brunette, his jeans come off with his boxers and the only one of them who still has any bit of clothes is Marco, though it doesn't look like they'll be getting in the way anytime soon. The palms of his hands run up his boyfriend's thighs, bringing them up until they're back around his waist, and naturally, Marco's arms drape themselves over Jean's shoulders and the blonde leans down to initiate another deep kiss.

Biting and licking at each other's lips, Jean manages a devilish smirk before sliding painter's fingers into the thigh highs, snapping the stretchy edge against his boyfriend's thigh, the slight snap making the smooth thigh flinch and tighten around the pale waist they were clinging to. A low chuckle emits from the deepest part of Jean's chest and when Marco loosens his hold on his shoulders to lean back and stare curiously at him, Jean only bites his own lip to hold off his grin before slowly grinding their dicks together, the sensation making amber eyes nearly flutter closed and the brunette underneath keen and grip the pillow under his head. A slow rhythm starts, with Jean struggling to remain composed as he ruts against Marco, watching with complete lust as his normally sweet and adorable boyfriend falls apart right under him with every little sigh and moan that comes from him. The sounds ring in Jean's ears and he chews his lip as he shamelessly thinks,  _'_ _Dear God, my angel could be a porn star with the sounds he's making...'_ Sweet chocolate colored eyes are lidded and even darker with lust as they stare directly up at the ceiling, clearly showing that all focus has been lost and Marco's just literally _taking it all in_ as he squirms and rolls his hips up to meet with Jean's pace. The way the scarred and freckled chest shakily rises and falls while his back arches in a way that shows off the beautiful arch of his ribs, and how Marco's hands are gripping the pillows so tight every time their thrusts meet, and when Jean dares to reach down and grip both their slicked cocks together and rub them both, those hands only tighten more to the point knuckles go white and they _tremble_ , and a needy whimper comes from Marco.

"I wish you could see yourself, angel." The low husky tone rips a shiver straight through the panting brunette and Jean tries to keep a straight face as he watches the show under him, "Never seen you so turned on... You're shaking, babe. Shaking and panting just for me. _Because of me._ 'S it feel good, angel?" A frantic nod under him pulls the amused grin up and Jean puts a stop to their slow grind, earning a shaky whimper of displeasure from Marco, "Relax, baby, just want to move our night along. It's gonna get much better. Promise." His words are enough to make Marco calm down but the needy look is ever so visible on his pretty face. Dark eyes glance down and watch the long pale fingers slowly brush up his stomach and chest, tracing his collarbones and running up the side of his neck until they trace his lips. The pad of Jean's index finger runs slowly along the edge of Marco's red-hued lips before a playful tongue comes out, the warm tip brushing at Jean's finger tip, the contact enough to shoot a spark through his hand. Amber eyes stare in interest as his boyfriend gently grasps his wrist and presses a light kiss to his fingertips.

The heavy and hot air around them seems to thin into something more sensual, no longer carrying this quick tempo of intense need and lust as the two silently stare at one another, reality coming back to tell them they are indeed going to go through with this. Another soft and sweet kiss is pressed to the callous fingertips, worn down from years of painting and drawing and seasonal jobs that Jean picks up during school breaks. The room goes quiet again, and it's Jean who eventually breaks it, "You sure you're okay with this? I don't want you to have any regrets." His voice is quiet and whispered as though speaking any louder would break the moment.

The brunette glances up at Jean and pulls his lips from the rough fingers long enough to smile, albeit nervously, "Jean," he murmurs so quietly that he repeats the name a second time in a slightly more audible voice, "No matter what I do with you, I'll never regret it, especially this." The smile becomes slightly more confident as he wraps his arms back around the blonde's shoulder, tugging him down to bring them chest to chest, "Now, are we going to make love or lay here all night chatting?"

The skirt really does little to hinder any of their movements, as do the stockings, so they're easily forgotten and kept on. Plus, to Jean, they make Marco look ten times sexier than ever before.

Kneeling between his boyfriend's spread thighs, Jean watches the impatience grow in Marco's eyes all over again as he sits there, watching the brunette worry at his bottom lip while watching Jean warm the lube between his fingers, digits slicked right down to the knuckles. They slip and slide together slowly, taunting the freckled boy who whines after what feels like an eternity of waiting. " _Jeeeaaan_..." Like a child, Marco pouts and continues to whine his partner's name, not stopping until he feels a hand grasping under one of his legs just behind the knee, an amused smile showing as Jean takes total advantage of Marco's stunning flexibility to grip the bend of his knee and keep it there. Toes curl with excitement, one set practically curling around the sheets as dark eyes watch Jean closely.

A sigh comes from Jean to ease his nerves before he breathes out a little warning to his skirt wearing angel that he's going to start, and after a split second of hesitation, he finally rubs slow circles at his boyfriend's tight entrance, the grip on Marco's leg easily feeling the sudden flinch at the simple contact and he hears Marco sharply inhale at the new sensation. "Sshh... It's okay." He shushes the other as if his words will calm the occasional tremble in those long legs as he continues to circle the tight hole, smearing the lube at the entrance before finally pressing the tip of his middle finger in. Another jolt causes him to tighten his grip, almost concerned that he was going to get hit in the face at some point. _Almost._ Though the thought is hilarious enough to make Jean crack a smile and snort as he teases his boyfriend. It does not go unnoticed.

"Wh-what the Hell... are you laughing at?" Between shaky breaths, Marco manages to ask, a little annoyed that Jean was choosing _now_ to be a good time to fucking _laugh,_ "We can stop if you want, you know?"

Quickly shaking his head, that faint smile is still there on the painter's face, "No, no, sorry. I just- I was thinking that if you keep flinching," he pauses enough to pull his finger out and then quickly nudging back in a little deeper this time, forcing another jerk - and a short gasp - from Marco to use as an example, "like that, well, then I'm worried I might get kicked in the face- C-Careful, babe!" He quickly regrets even saying anything as he eases his finger in more, a sudden flinch nearly making his thoughts true, " _Jesus_ , I'm gonna fucking end up with a black eye..."

"S-sorry, sorry, _sorry- Fuck_ please let me go, _oh_ myGod I think this is making me more sensitive than I should be, _ohhh_ my God,  _please let go, Jean._ " From a simple apology to quickly whispered requests, Marco's tremors just increase in frequency, Jean teasing his boyfriend already with his middle finger buried down to the knuckle by now. The _wonderful_ length of Jean's fingers makes it so easy to get reactions from Marco, and despite the pleading request of being let go, Jean only grins and keeps his grip firm, fingering and stretching his freckled boyfriend before whispering that he'll be adding a second finger in.

A particularly sharp inhale from the brunette as a second finger is added makes Jean press a loving kiss the side of Marco's knee, "Relax, baby, relax. It's gonna feel so good soon, and you're gonna feel _so amazing_." He smiles and nips at the other's knee, beginning to scissor fingers and spread them apart inside, watching as Marco whimpers and buries part of his face into the pillow, "Just need to find that one spot..." Chewing at his lip, he makes it his goal to find the spot that'll have Marco keening and trying to curl up in his arms. It's odd how the anticipation turns Jean on even more than expected, the thought of finally hitting that bundle of nerves in Marco and watching him really squirm making him shiver and worry at his lip even more. He just wants to brush it even just a little just to hear his partner's voice hitch and lace itself with need and uncontrolled whimpers. Now where is that spot-

" _Ah-! Wai- Fuck, wait!_ "

_There it is._ Satisfied, Jean bites back a grin and jerks his fingers into his freckled boyfriend's prostate, catching the shaking thigh in his hold as Marco attempts to pull away to curl up on himself. "There we go, babe, right there. 'S it good? Like that?" He's mostly taunting Marco, wanting to ease him as high as he can before the main event, "Like I said, you're fucking beautiful, angel." To keep Marco from getting close too quickly, he makes sure to just brush that sensitive place, and he practically moans from the sight of Marco gasping and giving frantic whispers of _ohGod, more please_ and _Don't stop please don't stop, fuck-_ , it was really becoming Jean's favorite thing to hear. The trembling in Marco's thighs have become full on quakes each time he brushes his boyfriend's prostate and he has to move his hand in time to the occasional needy bucks of Marco's hips. It's just so fucking good to see him so needy, a completely different look compared to how he is on a normal day. The way practically sobs Jean's name, how moans and gasps get caught in his throat, how his toes are curling so tight they're shaking straight from his feet and all the way to his knees, and the way he's practically trying to _fuck himself_ on Jean's hand. _God_ it's the best sight Jean has ever seen, he wishes he could keep it going forever, but... "Have to stop eventually, angel." It's the only thing Jean can say before drawing his hand away, leaving his partner feeling horribly empty as the blonde carefully brings down the other's leg, muscles quivering from being forced into such a position for so long and from the lingering ripples of pleasure still shooting through him.

Again, hesitance and first-time nerves run through the air as Jean leans down to peck warm lips, grasping the condom and lube at Marco's side, "...Still okay, baby?" A silent nod answers with brown eyes holding a little worry, "Mkay... Remember, just tell me to stop and I will. Don't wanna hurt you." After tearing open the packaging and carefully rolling on the condom, a quiet groan comes from Jean as he coats his stiff cock with lube, the entire time taking in the sight of his needy lover.

"Can I ride you...?"

The question nearly causes Jean to choke on his own spit and for just a second his mind hazes so much he thinks he goes light headed for a second at the thought of Marco _riding him_ , and he stares in shock at what he used to think was an innocent baby-faced angel. Of course the other is completely red faced, embarrassed to even ask. "Wh- Y... You're sure?" He has to ask before he even agrees, it just seems a little rude to just shout yes and let Marco ride him. He has to be gentle about this whole night.

Hesitantly nodding, Marco dares to look to those amber eyes he's in love with and chews the inside of his cheek for a moment, "I...really want you to enjoy this, and I always wondered what riding someone felt like..." Cheeks are still ablaze with a blush and he averts his eyes quickly, "I figured that maybe it'd feel better. You'd, _ahem_ , you'd be...pretty deep inside me. S-So I wanted to try it." Oh _God_ Marco. If he knew what he did to Jean, that blush would be eternal.

An agreement comes between them and Jean finds himself laying back against pillows, watching his freckled boyfriend hover his hips over him anxiously. His palms are resting on Marco's thighs and he rubs slowly circles with his thumbs around a cluster of spots, "Just be really gentle, okay?" he warns, not wanting to see his partner hurt himself just so Jean could feel good, "I only feel good when you feel good." He flinches a little when a hand gently grasps his slicked dick and holds it as Marco lines himself up, the tip barely making contact with the still tight hole. _'We're really doing this... I'm really going to get to make love with Marco...'_ The reality has officially sunk in.

"Good thing I feel good when you feel good, Jean..." The words are simply breathed before the brunette holds his breath and begins a slow and careful drop to let Jean finally in him. Lungs take in a quick inhale and hold it again as he eases the blonde in, small and quiet strangled sounds coming out and his hands are quick to release their grip on Jean so they press one palm against the bed and the other over Jean's racing heart. Brown eyes are closed tight in both concentration and slight pain but it has to be forced down so he can take a glimpse at Jean's expression.

The painter seems completely lost in bliss, hands holding Marco's hips and his cheeks flushed red with brows coming together in concentration as pleasure comes over his face. Inch by inch, Marco's letting Jean bury himself even deeper and seeing this look of absolute pleasure on him makes the freckled brunette exhale and moan quietly, but otherwise he remains silent until he has Jean buried balls deep, and he was _right_.

" _Ohhh, fucking-_ You're so deep in me, Jean... _Shit-_ Shit, I feel really full _ohmyGod_..." His mouth spills words before he can even stop them and the two have to take a moment, especially when Marco shifts in his position and freezes up again just from the small movement, " _Mmm_ you feel so good, babe." A long needy whine tears through the brunette's throat after a while and he locks eyes with Jean and circles his hips and making them both gasp for breath at the sensation, Jean's fingers tightening their grip and leaving deep crescents in the smooth bronzed skin and the slight sting seems to add on to Marco's pleasure, which surprises him. Perhaps there's a kinky side to him...

Easing up, the brunette's fingers grip the sheets as he revels in the slow way that he feels Jean slip out of him until the head remains inside and they keep eye contact as Marco brings himself back down, chewing at his lip and humming through the slow rhythm between. Underneath him, amber eyes watch the scene above, the way Marco's eyes close in concentration, continuously biting at his lip, the way his stomach tenses every time he comes up and then drops down, it's an amazing sight for Jean and he tightens his hold on his boyfriend's hips, finally pulling himself out of his pit of pleasure and making himself put all his focus into making his freckled boyfriend feel good. Digging the heels of his feet into the bed, Jean keeps that firm steady hold and makes sure to watch as he thrusts up just as the other comes down.

" _Hah-! Oh_ , do that again, do it again!" The frantic plea of such a simple action pulls a grin from Jean and he can't help but do it again, and again, and _again_ , meeting Marco's pace easily and loving the way the tight heat around his length squeezes every time he hit a different spot inside his freckle covered lover, " _Hmmm, yes_ just like that! _Just like that..._ " Above him the brunette pants and moans and whimpers for more, palms resting firmly on Jean's chest and stomach and occasionally scratching at the pale flesh while allowing himself to be pulled and back down to take the amazing feeling of his boyfriend burying himself in his ass.

The air gets a bit too thick for Marco, who naturally gives off incredible body heat and the current situation makes it a little too hard to breathe, "Waitwaitwait, stop, stop..." The hands on his hips stop pulling him down but he allows himself to rest against Jean's hips and leaving him buried inside him, just so he can feel that full feeling inside him, but the brunette is still gasping for breath, a bit exhausted just from what they've done so far. He runs a hand through damp bangs, pushing them out of his face, only to have them drop right back into place, " _Fuck_ this is exhausting..." Both of them snicker at Marco's comment and the lanky blonde rubs soothing circles on Marco's thighs. While catching his breath, his attention moves to the head of the bed and lips curl into a devilish smile which makes Jean frown in confusion.

"What's up, baby?" Curious, Jean watches his boyfriend seem to reach just behind the headboard, the shift in movement making the blonde groan a little and unconsciously rock up into Marco, who sighs softly and then settles back down, this time holding the famed leather jacket that Jean often wears when he really wants to look spiffy for his partner. Though he knows now what Marco was stretching to grab it doesn't make Jean any less confused and he frowns once more as his boyfriend seems amused and focused on trying to find the sleeves, all while giving lazy rolls of his ass and keeping them both aware that Jean is still buried balls deep inside Marco. "The _hell_ are you doing...?" Come on, Marco... Jean's starting to get a little impatient.

Strong and bronzed arms slip easily into the jacket and it's a wonder that it even fits, perhaps because Jean had bought it a size too big for comfort reasons, and so Marco's broad back easily fills the leather jacket, especially with no shirt to get in the way. Keeping it open to leave his chest and stomach exposed, he playfully grins and arches _beautifully_ with a hand tangling in his dark hair, "Looks good, mm?" His smile says that his wearing the jacket had a purpose and Jean easily realizes it. Oh. _Oh..._

A grin forms on Jean's face and he gives a low hum as he matches the lazy rocking of Marco's hips and loving how his leather jacket looked on his blushing boyfriend, "Oh yeah. Looks perfect on you, angel." And the thought of watching Marco ride him while wearing seems like the best idea all night, "Keep it on..." Lowering his voice into a husky murmur, Jean curls his fingers around the freckled boy's hips and drags him forward to grind inside the tight ass and making Marco whine and squirm above him. A shaky sigh breezes past Jean's chapped lips and he forces his boyfriend to continue the achingly slow grind and pulling the sweetest high-pitched whines and hums from him, beautiful broad hands gripping the sheets each time that Jean's dick rubs against his walls. "Nice and easy, angel. Nice and easy..." he breathes when the freckled boy begins to slowly rise and fall and ride Jean's thick cock.

The leather jacket made things twice as hot for the whimpering Marco, the thigh highs and skirt not exactly helping, but at this point he didn't seem to care, far too lost in trying to memorize the way Jean slipped in and out of him, feeling every little inch of him against his tight ass. His cheeks are flushed red and it spreads all across his nose and down his neck straight to his smooth chest. Jean's hands are still on his hips but both move in unison, Jean thrusting up and making Marco mumble incoherent things. The brunette's hands are pressed flat against Jean's chest as he pants the blonde's name over and over like some prayer and riding the hard cock. " _Ahh,_ you feel amazing, Jean, so fucking amazing." Unable to resist he leans down, feeling fingers curl into his dark hair in a tight grip, and moaning as Jean shoves his tongue right into the freckled boy's mouth. Shaking hands grip Marco's hips tight and force him completely down onto his length and pressing his heels into the bed so he can push up into Marco, circling his hips. Both of them pull away from the kiss and Jean mouths breathlessly against his boyfriend's throat as Marco let's out a soundless and choked moan which fades into a pleading whine as he grips bleached hair into his hands frantically, " _Fuck,fuck,fuck!_ " he whispers and buries his face into the crook of Jean's neck as he grinds circles with Jean's cock right against his sweet spot. Fingers dig painfully into his thighs and he shamelessly spreads them more as if it'll allow him to feel Jean even deeper in him. 

A hot exhale hits Marco's ear, "Sit up, baby." There's no hesitation to the command and Jean keeps a hand pressed to the small of Marco's back as he pushes himself up with his other hand until he's sitting up completely, the brunette still in his lap, "Come on, angel.  _Ride me_." The tone sends another shiver up Marco's back and arms wind themselves around the blonde's shoulders, sparing one more quick kiss before they start another rhythm, attempting to keep it slow and easy, but it quickly turns into restless thrusting and rocking. Marco's own aching dick drips pre-come along Jean's stomach but neither of them say anything. Long, beautiful fingers curl and hold tight to bruising hips and continue to pull Marco down and making the freckle faced boy nearly sob with how good it felt having Jean thrust deep inside him. Hot, open-mouthed kisses are traded, teeth biting and tugging at lips, and Jean uses one hand that is spread wide over humid skin to scratch at the pool of freckles on the small of Marco's back, something he knows drives his trembling boyfriend right up the wall. 

A choked cry tears through Marco's throat and tangles itself with the heavy pants, lungs starving for a decent inhale of air, " _F-fuck-!!_ " One hand let's go of the blonde's shoulder and comes back to grip the shaking thigh of Jean, holding tight enough that Jean swears there will be some dark bruises there too. Marco's grip is tight but shaky and his blunt nails dig right into the skin of his artistic boyfriend's back and leaving deep crescents in the pale skin. His skin crawls in pleasure as those fingers in his back continue to scratch and rake themselves along the oddly sensitive curve of his lower spine and doe-like brown eyes stare into burning amber ones before they cross in delight. Shaky and helpless whines crawl from the panting brunette's lips as he leans back on both hands and nearly sobbing out Jean's name as the new angle seems to hit his prostate in the  _best way possible_. " _Jean... Jean!_ God, right  _fucking_ there, please don't stop,  _please!_ " He's nearly praying that Jean isn't the cruel type and won't suddenly stop or slow down because he is  _right_ on the edge of the best fucking orgasm and his stomach and the muscles of his abdomen flex and twitch and tense as he tries so hard to keep from coming right there. 

It's exhausting to keep trying to keep a steady pace at the point and the deep thrusts from Jean has turned to short and shallow hits. His palms sweat as they attempt to hold on to Marco's hips, his head too blurry and hazy and completely  _fucked out_ to really focus except on keeping the beautiful angel in his lap and hearing those pleas for  _more_ and  _more, please!_ Marco is tight and hot and quivering around Jean's cock and it's making it impossible to think and  _fuck, he's gonna come._ "Babe- baby,  _shit_ , I'm so close, I'm right there, angel." He pants through the heat pooling in his lower stomach and as his boyfriend comes back up to wrap trembling arms around his shoulders and bury his breathless and incoherent mumbles into the crook of Jean's neck, he lets the hand splayed across Marco's lower back to come to the side to hold his bucking hips and a grin crawls across the blonde's face as those broad hands spread on his back and shoulders in a desperate attempt to force them to stay together. He can feel the sensitive tip of Marco's cock against his stomach but makes no move to touch it, instead leaning up and brushing his lips to Marco's ear, "I can feel you, baby. I can feel you tight around my cock.  _Fuck_ you feel amazing, I wanna see you though." He nips at the lobe of the brunette's ear before letting a hot sigh hit it, "Wanna see you come, baby. Come without being touched. Just let yourself go, baby." A strangled moan comes in response as he continues the quick and shallow thrusts, abusing Marco's prostate repeatedly. 

Toes curl against the bed sheets and Marco murmurs mindlessly against Jean's sweat-dampened skin, the salty taste adding to the ever growing sensations of the night and Marco can't resist the tension in his stomach after the whispers to his ear are said. He helplessly pants and chokes on his own breath, the leather jacket just making it all even more impossible, the material sliding against the sweat of Jean's skin. His thighs quake violently, he's ready to fall over that edge for the first real time, "J-Jean! 'M gonna come, 'm gonna come-  _Fuck!_ " 

Without a single touch Marco tightens deliciously well around the hard cock inside him and he scrambles to dig fingers into Jean's back as he comes between their stomach, painting them both in his mess and he moans wantonly. By his ear he hears the frantic breaths and he's pulled down roughly, Jean settled deep in his ass. A deep, stretched groan and murmurs of praise come from Jean as he comes, and part of Marco almost wishes there wasn't a condom keeping him from feeling the hot sensation of Jean filling him to the brim with his seed, to the point it slips out and dribbles ludely down to Jean's thighs. Maybe another day... 

The afterglow is spent with Marco trembling in Jean's arms as he rocks weakly as though wanting to savor every little movement of his still overly sensitive insides. Their breathing is still shaky and shallow for a moment before they sigh in unison, a bliss washing over them. It's so quiet in the room, a heavy weight in the air still around them as reality sets in and they fall in small and quiet laughter as Marco leans away to inspect his boyfriend, leather jacket creaking from his movement. Amber eyes seem to shine to brightly with a new kind of light and Marco can't help but laugh at the sight, "... _Wow_." he breathes, practically in awe at what they've just done, "That... was really amazing." Another peal of small laughter comes between them before Jean glances down at the mess between their stomachs. Freckled cheeks burn red with embarrassment and Jean only grins and kisses Marco's forehead gently. 

They're both shaky as Marco eases off Jean's lap, a small shiver making it's way up their spines as the freckled boy gives a shaky sigh at the sensation, before the blonde lays his boyfriend down on the bed and gets to his feet, leaving to go into the connecting bathroom of his room. The sink runs and Marco lets his eyes drift close in exhaustion, listening to the water run before it stops and muffled foot steps approach before he feels a damp yet warm sensation run across his stomach. It's soothing and he lets out an appreciative hum as his stomach is cleaned off. "That jacket really does look great on you, angel." Jean's comment makes him smile and quietly snicker, finally looking at him and watching him clean his own stomach. 

"It's a cozy jacket, although very warm." 

A snort comes from Jean as he tosses the rag to the floor before he gently pulls the brunette up, "Most people don't wear leather jackets during sex, babe." His somewhat joking reminder brings a smile to Marco's face as they ease the jacket off broad shoulders and placed back on the bedpost. Jean's eyes glance down to the skirt around Marco's waist and the thigh highs that have slipped down nearly to his knees and he chuckles as he snaps the edge of the stockings, "Fuck I  _seriously_ forgot you were even wearing these. Guess they're just a natural thing to see now." He watches as Marco unzips the skirt and finally takes it off, throwing it aside before he lifts a leg to him, brown eyes lidded and holding a playfully flirty gaze. Amused, Jean bites back a grin before slowly sliding the first stocking off until he throws it aside, pressing a warm kiss to his boyfriend's ankle, "My beautiful princess." he murmurs as he slides off the second stocking and does the same kiss to the ankle of that leg, "So pretty in everything you wear." Once he's tossed the thigh high aside, he leans over Marco before settling down beside him, yanking the bed covers over them. In an instant, he has strong arms around his torso and a chipmunk-cheeked boyfriend nuzzling against his chest. A low hum comes from Marco and Jean cards a hand through soft near-raven hair. 

"...I love you so much, Jean. I hope you know that." The quiet and somewhat tired murmur makes them both blush, and the blonde buries his face against Marco's hair, lightly pinching at ticklish sides and making him jump and yelp before falling into laughter. 

"Of course I know, you goober." Despite the not-so-romantic response, Jean makes his boyfriend look up at him and he gives a gentle and loving smile come across his lips, "I know you love me, and I love you more than anything in this world, and I am so happy that you allowed me to be your first time, and I hope you never regret it because I know I never will." Grasping his boyfriend's wrist - the one on the scarred side of his beautiful body - he kisses his warm palm, murmuring against the soft skin, "You're everything in the world to me, angel, and I don't plan on ever leaving you."

Marco's eyes soften as he feels every warm kiss to his palm and he smiles warmly to Jean, "Trust me, Jean. I won't ever regret this. You're the only one I want to give myself to. The only one who will ever see me this way." He doesn't shy or flinch away when a hand rests itself against the scarred side of his face, instead he only smiles even more, feeling no reason to hide anymore. Jean's seen every part of his damaged skin and didn't mention it at all in the entire night. To Jean, Marco was as normal in appearance as anyone else, and it made Marco feel as though every day he spent hiding was a waste of his time. 

Their noses brush together as they rest their foreheads against one another, breaths mingling together as they enjoy the silence between them. It's quiet the rest of the night, with Jean's hand gently running along the scarred flesh of his boyfriend, soothing circles made on his figure until he can feel slow and even breaths under his palm, the slow rise and fall of Marco's chest signaling he's fallen asleep, completely relaxed in warm arms. A short moment is spent watching that peaceful look on the freckled one's face before Jean ends up falling asleep as well, cheek rested against dark hair and a hand against a steady heartbeat. 

* * *

 

It's the last few days of school before final exams arrive, and the large home of the Kirschstein's is quiet save for the sound of the television which rambles on about the news, mostly for background sound as books lay scattered across the coffee table. Final pieces of homework are being completed between the two students, one perched comfortably on the couch and the other on the floor. 

" _God_ , I am so tired of this homework, I can't even see fucking straight." The two-toned blonde groans in agony as he lies down on the leather couch before nudging the skirt-clad brunette at his feet, "Hey. Babe. Hey." He continues pressing his foot against the back of his girlfriend until he gets Marco's attention, "Wanna fuck?" A sputter of laughter comes from the brunette and Jean grins as Marco tries to bury the laughter into her palms after dropping the pencil she had held, " _Whaaat?_ " he asks innocently as if he had no idea why his girlfriend was dying in laughter. 

With a shake of her head, Marco just smiles and looks back at her ridiculous boyfriend, "Jean. Finish your damn homework before I decide to go home and do it there." Oh her poor choice in words backfired so fast. 

Brows raise in joking interest as the blonde seems to look impressed, " _Ohhh_ , you're gonna go home and  _do it_ by yourself, babe? Gosh, I sure wish I had a front row seat for that." With a cocky grin, Jean bites at the corner of his own lips before running the tip of his tongue across it, making his girlfriend shiver a little at the sight, "You gonna finger yourself or something, angel? Would love to see that..."

There was something Marco learned after their first night together: They both seemed to have an incredible sex-drive, and as searing hot kisses are placed on the half scarred torso and fingers connect constellations on shaking thighs, Marco debates on whether it's all due to them being mindless teenagers or just a new-found addiction to sex. If it's the latter, she decides it's not an addiction to sex, and while arching her back as a warm palm spreads at the small of her spine she decides to believe she's simply addicted to the way Jean's artistic fingers dance across her sides and ribs and stomach and  _all_ across her body. They're just in love and their first time together was simply them discovering just how much they were completely hooked to one another. 

Jean always told himself that waiting for Marco was worth it, and he was entirely right. He would wait all over again if it meant keeping his precious angel happy and comfortable enough so he could continue seeing such a pretty smile. 

**Author's Note:**

> Eyyy hope you liked that. I've been working on this since before Christmas and was originally meant to be a Christmas present to Tori but it became insanely long but I regret nothing. So now it's a one-shot to quench my desire for genderfluid!Marco. 
> 
> Chat me up on [Tumblr](http://vanitas-vanilla.tumblr.com/) and maybe I'll draw some genderfluid!Marco for this.  
>  **EDIT:** [I doodled Marco with his cat hoodie on my Instagram lolololol](https://instagram.com/p/zTt7E-Ol3y/?modal=true)


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